


First Visit

by nubianamy



Series: Donut Holes [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Children, Donutverse, Gen, Kidfic, Pinn Week, Pre-Slash, References to Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn is invited over to Noah's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Visit

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Pinn Week 2013 (starting May 15), I've written this little Donutverse story about the first time Finn came over to Noah's house. Enjoy! 
> 
> -amy

 

February 2003

Noah hung up the phone. He hadn't bothered to try to placate Davey when he'd called to tell him he wasn't going to be his friend anymore for the third time. Sure, maybe Davey was pissed for a good reason, but that didn't change the fact that Finn was better at dodgeball than Davey was. Davey always got way too worked up and yelled at the people who were throwing at him, and that slowed him down enough that he got hit, and then he took ages to calm down in the penalty box. But Finn used strategy; he'd consider the situation, then target the most aggressive players and decimate their offense. Naturally Noah was going to pick him first, and if Davey couldn't deal with it, he could bite his butt. Anyway, Davey was just going to end up at the stupid library reading his stupid books with his stupid friend from Lima Heights; Noah was the one who was going to end up with nothing to do but play Chutes and Ladders with Sarah.

Only... he gnawed his lip. Maybe he could call Finn. Finn wasn't a school friend yet - although, maybe now that Noah had picked him in dodgeball, he could justify it - but he was sort of a home friend, or the beginning of one. He'd gone to the mall with him that one time to see  _Shrek,_  and even though Meemee had been over forty-five minutes late to pick them up, it had still been kind of awesome, hanging out there together. But having him over to his house... that had the potential to be dangerous.

Noah made his way down the hallway, being careful not to bump anything, and with infinite care opened the door to his parents' bedroom. His dad was still sprawled in the same position he'd seen him in a half hour ago, which was encouraging. If he wasn't awake and yelling yet, maybe they could keep him sleeping off his hangover all morning. Finn wasn't all that loud. It could work. And, yeah, he knew he was justifying things, but fuck it.

He closed the door silently and returned to the phone in the kitchen, eyeing the enormous book with the white pages with trepidation. Meemee was shoveling Mrs. Henderson's driveway, so he couldn't exactly ask him.

"Sarah," he said softly. It was enough, between the two of them. He didn't have to yell for her, not in the morning. She appeared beside him seconds later. He thumbed through the book, grimacing. "Can you help me find HUDSON, CAROLE somewhere on this page?"

Sarah was only five, but she knew her alphabet and how to sound out some words. They puzzled it out together, and when it came time to make the call, he didn't chase her away. "I thought Davey was coming over," she whispered.

"He was being a dick. This'll be okay."

She looked doubtful. "Does he know about dad?"

"All we have to do is tell him he has to be quiet. We don't have to say why. He'll go along with it." Finn was a rule-follower; Noah had been able to tell that from the very first day he'd been transferred into Finn's second-grade class last year. Rule-followers were boring, but Finn wasn't, somehow.

There was a click as the call connected. "Hello, this is Carole."

He cleared his throat. "Um... this is Noah Puckerman? From Finn's class? Could he come over to play?"

"Oh!" She sounded surprised, but not upset. "Noah? Is your mother there?"

"She's at work. My dad's here, though, and my big brother."

"Could I speak to your dad?"

Noah knew the words to say by now. "He can't come to the phone right now. I could tell you how to get to my house. We're at 848 Murphy."

"Oh, that's just a few blocks from our house. Finn could walk over. I'll ask him. Would you hold on a moment?"

He picked at the scab on his elbow while he waited restlessly for her to come back to the phone. Sarah poked him. "Is he coming?"

"I don't know yet. Put the breakfast dishes in the sink, would you?" He surveyed the kitchen and family room with dismay. They were going to have to clean up some of this stuff.

"Noah?" He turned his attention back to the phone. "Finn would be happy to come over. He should come home at noon for lunch. When would you like him to arrive?"

"Anytime's good. We're just hanging out here. And I can make him lunch." He could have kicked himself the second the words were out of his mouth, because dude, nobody _else_  in the third grade made lunch for their friends.

But Mrs. Hudson just said, "That's very generous of you, Noah. You'd be welcome to come here for lunch if you prefer."

"Well, uh... thanks. My little sister's here, and my big brother, and we kind of... we've got food here."

Noah didn't usually care what the house looked like, but it was suddenly really obvious that the ashtrays full of roach clips and empty beer bottles weren't the kind of thing that would be okay to have around when rule-follower Finn Hudson came over. He directed Sarah in a kind of silent whirlwind to pick up bottles and hide them in the laundry room while he did dishes.

Finn arrived minutes after Meemee got home, while he was still taking off his snow boots. Noah took his coat and hung it up while Sarah peeked at him from around the half-wall in the kitchen. Meemee stared at Noah with annoyance.

"You know you guys are going to have to be quiet," he said. "No tv. Our dad's sick."

Finn looked startled, but he nodded. "It's fine. We can keep it down."

Meemee disappeared into his room. Before Noah could suggest they do the same, Sarah was there, tugging on Noah's hand. "Will you play a game with me?"

"Finn doesn't want to play a stupid baby game," Noah muttered, because even though that would have been okay to do if they were there alone, it wasn't cool to play with your five-year-old sister.

But Finn just grinned, looking over at the pieces to  _Chutes and Ladders_  arrayed on the coffee table. "I don't mind. Can I be the boy piece?"

They played for a half hour, keeping their voices low even when they landed on a good ladder. He didn't draw attention to the packet of rolling papers sitting on the table next to them, missed in the process of straightening up. Finn didn't appear to know what they were, and Noah wasn't going to enlighten him. Noah won, but Finn was a good loser and gave him a quiet high-five.

"I'm sorry your dad's sick," said Finn.

"He's sick a lot," Sarah agreed. Noah wasn't going to argue. He watched Finn move toward his dad's guitar, propped in the corner against his amp. They weren't supposed to touch the guitar, but Finn looked impressed, and that made Noah want to show off a little.

"I can play Yellow Submarine."

"Yeah?" Finn smiled, while Noah puffed out his chest.

"Yeah. It's pretty easy. I could teach you, if you want."

Sarah watched Noah take the guitar with round, scared eyes. "Noah..."

"He's not awake," he interrupted. "And he's not gonna find out. We won't plug in the amp."

The action on his dad's electric was so much easier than on his acoustic, even after they'd filed down the bridge to bring it down for Noah's small fingers. Finn's hands were bigger; he didn't have any trouble reaching the strings for the C chord, but trying to get him to bend his fingers to do the G was more complicated.

"If you play it with your last three fingers instead of the first three, it's easier to switch to the other chords more quickly," he said, bending over Finn's neck. "Here." He reached around him from behind, holding his fingers on the fretboard. "See how much faster it is?"

"Hey, I'm doing it!" Finn flubbed the E minor, but he caught his mistake and fixed it right away. "In a towwwwwwn... where I was borrrrn..."

Sarah sang along under her breath, and Noah didn't have to remind Finn once to keep it down. There were advantages to being a rule-follower, he guessed. At the end, Noah took the guitar and played him the songs he'd been practicing. Finn knew "No Rain" by Blind Melon and "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," but when he got to "Leavin' on a Jet Plane," he stayed quiet, just listening to Noah singing. It made his legs tingle to see Finn watching him with that expression on his face.

"You're a good singer," he said.

"You, too," Sarah told Finn.

"That's what my mom's boyfriend said." He made a face. "I really want to play the drums, but... so far, no money for lessons. My mom said if she gets this promotion at work, maybe I could take some lessons. I've been asking her for them for three years. I have a kit, now, though." After a moment, he added, "Maybe tomorrow you could come over and see it? You could bring your guitar and we could jam."

"Yeah?" Noah almost said  _yes,_  without even asking, but he knew it would depend on how his dad was doing. "That'd be awesome. I'll have to check with my Ma and let you know."

Sarah tugged on his sleeve. "I'm hungry."

Finn perked up at the word, which made Noah grin, but he hesitated. "Your mom said you could decide if you wanted to go home for lunch, or stay here."

Finn shrugged. "I'd rather stay, if you don't mind making lunch. Seems like a lot of work."

"Noah's a good cook," Sarah assured him.

"It's nothing much," he protested, but she was already shoving him toward the kitchen, Finn following along behind.

"It's awesome. Can we have sweet potato fries with yoli?"

"Aioli, squirt." Noah turned on the oven and avoided Finn's curious look. How was he going to explain that homemade mayonnaise tasted so much better than the stuff in the jar, and he'd worked hard to perfect his recipe, and he'd never buy that pre-made shit again?

"Can I do anything to help?"

"Noah never lets anybody help," Sarah said.

"It's okay," he told Finn. "It's usually easier if I do everything myself. But you could wash the sweet potatoes, if you want."

Finn stood at the sink, watching while Noah showed him how to scrub one of the sweet potatoes. It felt way too easy, like any second Finn might start making fun of him, but he didn't. He just asked Sarah about school and how old she was and what she liked to do, and ignored the bruise on her cheek.

Noah gathered all his ingredients, blended oil with cinnamon and other stuff, then sliced the sweet potatoes and covered them with the oil and spice mixture. Finn settled down at the table, observing Noah working with interest.

"There's chicken salad," Noah offered, "or roast beef and prosciutto, with this awesome mustard..."

 _Now_  Finn laughed, but it wasn't in a mean way. He sounded a little surprised, though. "It's like going to a restaurant," he said. "We don't eat stuff like that at home."

Noah tried not to bristle, shoving the two parts of the blender together and "Yeah, well, if you were hoping for hot dogs and peanut butter and jelly, you might as well go eat someplace else."

"No, I was... no." Finn's voice was gentle. "It's good. Thank you. I'd love some chicken salad. I don't even know what prosciutto is."

While the sweet potato fries baked, Noah got a little taste of it out of the fridge and gave it to Finn. He layered the chicken salad on bread and watched, somewhat breathless, as Finn ate it in about ten enormous bites.

"s'good," he mumbled through a full mouth, and swallowed, grinning. "Thanks."

It wasn't until all the sweet potato fries and aioli had been consumed, along with a pecan tart Noah had been experimenting with, that they began to hear noises from the hallway. Sarah scampered back and forth. "It's dad," she said. "He's awake."

"Oh." Finn glanced anxiously at Noah. "TIme for me to go?"

"Yeah, probably," he said, reluctantly pushing in his chair. "I'll... thanks for coming."

Finn slipped his boots on, shoving his hat down on top of his head. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe. I'll have to let you know."

Noah guessed the answer would be no, but it didn't matter. Watching Finn trudge through the slush and into the neighbor's back yard on his way home was something of a revelation.  _I was just me. Not the badass, or the jock, or the fuckup. Just... me. And Finn liked me anyway._

Sarah leaned her head against Noah. "I like him."

"Yeah," said Noah softly. "I do, too."


End file.
